


The Stakeout

by lovebashed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Scott should make it a habit), Derek is a butthole, Derek is secretly pleased, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Scott is late because Allison, Stiles Has Issues, Stiles can't decide whether to thank Scott or bite his head off, Stiles' crush is showing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebashed/pseuds/lovebashed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are in Stiles’ Jeep when a sickening love song starts to play on the radio. It's awkward for both.</p><p> <i>He chances a glance at Derek and finds him still staring straight ahead, tensed up, fingers squeezing his knees and his jawline in a tight clench. His frown is gradually getting deeper and it's a bit ridiculous how angry he looks. It's like the song is personally offending him because as annoyed as he'd been at Stiles before, now he just looks downright furious. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stakeout

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing was written for [wildstilinski](http://wildstilinski.tumblr.com) and it was originally posted on my [tumblr](http://pocus.tumblr.com).
> 
> As always, thanks to my wonderful beta, Monia for making this shiny.

Stiles' glance has been flickering to the digital numbers on top of the radio so often it seems like time has perpetually frozen to half-past one at night. The thought puts him in a restless, panicky mood and he can't stop bouncing his leg against the Jeep's floor. What if the so-called witch has somehow managed to mess with the fabric of time? Worry squirms like snakes in his belly, even after he realizes how unlikely it is that the witch could even manage a simple transformation spell, let alone anything time-related.

Derek sits next to him, motionless, but his eyes are scanning the dark surroundings with intent. If Stiles squints and concentrates really hard, he can make out the nearest line of trees, illuminated by the headlights. 

He rubs a palm against his face and wipes the grease on his shirt, then digs his fingers into his armpits and whistles a random tune.

He rolls his shoulders and groans when his spine makes a satisfying pop. Then he takes his fingers out of his pits and starts drumming them against the steering wheel. 

"Would you just… stop," Derek grits out, startling Stiles. Derek's voice is pinched and he looks like Stiles' mere existence is causing him discomfort.

"Dude, what? I'm not even doing anything," Stiles says, trying to match Derek's stink-eye with his own. He's not sure whether he should be offended or self-satisfied that Derek's so obviously bothered by his presence.

"Yes you are. You're being loud," Derek enunciates and sighs like he's trying to explain something simple to a complete moron. "Your restless energy is putting me on edge."

"On the edge of your… sanity?" Stiles prompts, panic giving way to intrigue. "Are you gonna like, go feral from just being in a closed off space with me for a few hours? Wait-- is that possible? Is that something I should know about?" 

Derek looks at Stiles like he's sprouting an extra head or something, says “No.” Stiles has never heard the word spoken with so much disdain. "I am, however, this close to kicking you out of the Jeep and making you wait outside."

"You can't do that," Stiles says at once, trying to sound sure of himself. "If anyone's gonna wait outside, it's you, mister. Big Bad or not, this is still my Jeep currently keeping your grumpy ass warm."

Derek sighs, clearly annoyed, but at least he doesn't start arguing about it. "Look, can we just--Can we go back to sitting in silence?" he says instead, more like a command than a request. "I can't believe Scott hasn't showed up yet. What could take so long?"

"Fine, but then I'm turning on the radio." Stiles fiddles with the channels until he finds one that's playing some generic pop song that was probably a hit a few summers back. He might have even liked it back then but now he can't really place the artist. "Oh, and seriously? What did you expect? Scott and Allison literally got back together Tuesday. I'll be surprised if he bothers to show up at all."

Derek makes an unhappy noise and sinks further in his seat, going back to staring into the distance. Stiles sighs and tries not to count all the ways in which his life could be better.

The stakeout's been a total bust so far. 

It hasn't even gotten properly started yet because Stiles and Derek seem to be the only people who'd even bothered to show up. Besides, Stiles had made a promise to Scott to wait for him at the edge of the forest before advancing closer to where the "witch" had been sacrificing small forest animals all through June. Stiles' stomach churned. The image of mauled, headless squirrels and rabbits inside a circle of twigs and some form of wolfsbane that had caused Stiles' wolf buddies a terrible sneeze-attack was still fresh on his mind. It had been pretty obvious from the get-go that they were dealing with some deranged individual instead of a real witch, but if anyone asked him, that just made the person all the more dangerous.

Stiles enjoys the radio for a while until a terribly sweet love-song starts to play, and then. Then it's just all around awkward. Suddenly the space between him and Derek feels entirely too small, the air heavy and loaded with thoughts and ideas that Stiles has been trying to suppress for a while. The truth is, there's been _feelings_. Feelings stirring in Stiles. Feelings towards _Derek_. Not all that different from the ones Lydia has always provoked in him so he's been able to recognize them for what they are. And if he thinks about it rationally --and he has, so much that he's given himself headaches-- developing a crush on Derek shouldn't have come to him as such a surprise. Derek is totally gorgeous and infuriating and most importantly entirely uninterested in him, and Stiles definitely has a type. 

He chances a glance at Derek and finds him still staring straight ahead, tensed up, fingers squeezing his knees and his jawline in a tight clench. His frown is gradually getting deeper and it's a bit ridiculous how angry he looks. It's like the song is personally offending him because as annoyed as he'd been at Stiles before, now he just looks downright furious. 

It doesn't matter, though. Derek's never been a ray of sunshine. This is the Derek he's most familiar with. He allows himself to study Derek’s features for a little while longer, follows the bob of Derek's Adam's apple and licks his lips as he traces the tight tendons in Derek's neck with his eyes. It's unfair how good-looking Derek is when he doesn't even date. All that package is just sitting there, going to waste in the dating world. It's tragic, really. Not that Derek would be a very good dater, not until he removed that stick out of his butt and thought about how he presented himself to others.

But damn if he isn't still hot as burning.

Blood rushes through Stiles ears, and the sound of his pulse drowns out the radio. He leans in towards Derek just a bit, eyes on the column of Derek's neck, lips puckering involuntarily as the song moves to the chorus again. 

That delicious neck is almost within his reach. All strong and delectable. If he leans in just a bit more-- 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Derek jumps, alarmed, a total deer in the headlights look on his face. 

Stiles jerks back so fast his elbow hits the car horn and a loud honk penetrates the quiet night. He bats the air with his hand, his cheeks and the skin behind his ears burning with fingers in the cookie jar kind of embarrassment. "Look, man, I'm a healthy, sexually awakened teenager in the prime of my life. Songs like these? They're like freaking catnip to me. It doesn't help that you're, y'know--" He despairs, motioning at Derek's physique. If his voice sounds accusing, it just goes to serve Derek right for being so stupidly good-looking. 

"I'm what?" Derek demands like he doesn't know, and Stiles groans, cupping his face in his hands.

"Just forget it, dude. Forget everything. Can we please stop talking and just. We'll sit in silence till Scott gets here, okay? Sound like a plan? You were totally right, silence is so unappreciated. Silence is amazing, golden, even. I love silence." He tries to prove his point by turning off the radio, which he will be smashing into pieces once he gets his hands on a brick or something. Maybe Scott could lend him his baseball bat.

"Fine," Derek grits out, turning back to look out the window.

"Great," Stiles says and mimics Derek's motions while attempting to calm down his rabbit heart.

\--

"You were going to kiss my neck," Derek breaks the silence because nothing in Stiles' life is a smooth ride. "Don't think I didn't see the duck-lips."

"Oh my god, you're the worst stakeout buddy in the world." Stiles despairs, palming his face in irritation. "I thought we agreed to not talk about it."

Derek lets out a humming noise like he's considering something, and Stiles sees him shrug through the gap between his fingers. Derek is being unfair, which is what Derek does best. It's like he gets off on being the biggest butthole in the universe.

"Suit yourself," Derek replies, the picture of nonchalance, and great, now he's just trolling Stiles. What a bag of dicks.

"I hate you," Stiles says and notices Derek barely suppressing a smirk. 

"Maybe, but I think you also want to make out with my neck like there's no tomorrow."

"Whatever," Stiles says, slumping in his seat. "Don't look so smug about it, either, asshole. The mood's totally ruined now, all thanks to you, by the way, so. You totally missed that train to smooch-ville. You could have had all this," he makes sweeping motions at himself, ignoring how awkward he feels.

Derek gives him a pretty impressive eye-roll and starts fiddling with the seatbelt. "I'm not too bothered," he says as he clicks it around himself. Out in the distance Stiles can see Scott's shadowy figure finally jogging towards the Jeep. "If Scott keeps running late like this, I'm pretty sure this won't be our last stakeout yet. Nobody, witch or not, hangs out in the forest this late at night," he adds as Scott yanks the door open and climbs into the backseat, out of breath and sporting a lopsided smile. Stiles has never seen him—or anyone—look so sheepish.

"Sorry guys, I got held back, um, Allison--"

Stiles thumps his head against the steering wheel and tries to suppress Scott's half-hearted apology with loud, unhappy groans. The last thing he needs right now is to hear what Scott and Allison got up to while he was, once again, denied everything. But there's warmth spreading in his belly when he thinks about Derek's words and that pleased smile tugging at Derek's mouth when he talked about Stiles kissing him.


End file.
